


Missing

by LogicGunn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BAMF John Sheppard, M/M, Permanent Injury, Rodney McKay Whump, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23380852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: “There are two hundred and six bones in the human body."
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 15
Kudos: 144





	Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the wonderful respoftw and waterfallliam. Thank you both so much, I'd have given up on this without your input.
> 
> Inspired by the quote from Terminator 2: "There are 215 bones in the human body, that's one!" - Sarah Connor
> 
> (I mean, she's wrong, but it's still pretty bad-ass.)

The nights are pitch black on M2A-923; according to Rodney something in the stratosphere reflects most of the light of the stars back into space so you can barely see your hand in front of your face. The only illumination comes from the dwindling embers of the campfire and the diminishing beam of the torch that Rodney took with him when he went to answer a call of nature. John’s warm, heart still pumping from their lovemaking, thighs and ass still burning, and a soft breeze filters in through the flaps of the tent, cooling his sweat-slicked skin. Maybe he’ll ask Rodney to leave it open when he comes back. Yeah, no, he can already hear the protest of “bugs and bears and serial killers (oh my!), are you out of your mind, Colonel?”. (He still calls John Colonel when he’s irked, despite the fact that they’ve been fucking for years and official for almost as long.) 

To John’s amusement, Rodney put all his clothes back on before he slipped out, even though Teyla and Ronon are snoring softly in the other tent and both of them have seen it all before. They’ve been in more than enough situations where privacy was but a dream (and Rodney delivered both of Teyla’s children for God’s sake) so there’s really no modesty left to be had, but Rodney never lost his bashfulness, his fear of not measuring up both literally and figuratively, and so he clings on to some archaic sense of propriety and the rest of them indulge him in it. Even when it’s just the two of them, he’s naked for all the parts that require nakedness but once all’s said and done he shuffles back into his boxers (if John’s lucky) and a t-shirt (if he’s not). 

Rodney fucked him hard and deep and slow, the way he likes it best, the way that makes his toes curl and his traitorous mouth whisper filthy and beautiful things into the darkness of the tent. Rodney’s always quiet in bed, the sound of his heaving breath the only indication of his effort and his pleasure, and if John’s honest that surprised him when they first got together, that Rodney McKay of all people shuts up when he’s making love. He doesn’t even shut up when someone shoves a gun in his face. It’s a little intimidating, being the sole focus of all of Rodney’s attention, and oh so good to be taken apart by his capable hands and put back together by his fervid mouth. John idly considers that maybe they’re not done yet, maybe there’s more pleasure to be had tonight. It’s been a while; between one irksome military emergency and the next engineering crisis, they’ve not really shared a bed, in any sense, for days. It’s ironic that some weeks they only find time to be together when they go off-world, but they should make the most of it. 

John’s not worried when Rodney doesn’t come back right away. He probably got distracted by something shiny or took a wrong turn at a tree. The rule is twenty paces, but John knows for a fact that Rodney goes as far as he can to take a leak, and even further for anything else (he gets stage fright if he’s too close to camp). When he still isn’t back after a few more minutes John gets up and throws on his trousers, then shoves his feet into his boots and goes out to look for him. He can see a soft glow in the trees, and it's definitely more than twenty paces away. He’d have another talk with Rodney about camp rules if he thought it would make a difference but, honestly, he’d get further talking to a P-90 about its feelings. It’s so dark when he steps out of the light of the campfire that he can’t see the ground, so he takes cautious steps through the forest, almost tripping over roots but managing to keep his balance despite his untied laces. 

“Rodney?” he hisses through the darkness. He doesn’t want to wake up Ronon or Teyla, but he doesn’t want to spook Rodney either. “Hey, buddy, you okay?” 

There’s no answer. That doesn’t alarm John, not yet, because he’s still a good few steps away, but he is surprised that Rodney didn’t hear him. The night is so still, so devoid of motion or ambient noise, that his whisper echoes through the trees. As he gets closer he realises that Rodney’s torch is lying on the dirt. Its beam spreads along the ground, shooting rays out between the tree trunks towards John, lighting up his boots as he gets closer. 

“Rodney?” 

He picks up the torch and shines it all around him, but Rodney isn’t here. There’s no good reason that he would wander away from his light source like that, but there are plenty of bad ones. John shouts out – “ _RODNEY?!”_ – and turns, heart hammering in his chest, scanning the treeline for signs of his lover. There’s some trampled undergrowth between the trunks, and while John’s no Ronon, he can recognise a trail when he sees one. This trail tells him that Rodney was dragged through the undergrowth away from the camp. How the fuck did John not hear that? 

Ronon comes crashing through the trees in his leather trousers and boots, takes one look at the undergrowth and swears - “Fuck.” Teyla appears behind him and hands John his firearm while Ronon assesses the trail. “They’re carrying him back towards the Stargate. We could cut them off?” 

They run as fast as they can. There’s no telling how big a head-start the kidnappers have. It could be anything up to five minutes, and five minutes can be the difference between life and death in the Pegasus Galaxy. 

“Don’t wait for me,” John says to Ronon and Teyla. “You’re both a lot faster than I am. If you catch up to them, stun them, even if you have to stun Rodney. We’ll sort it out later.” 

There’s already a gap between John and the other two, and it grows larger and larger until he can’t see either of them anymore. The ground passes beneath his feet, too goddamned slow, and the beam from Rodney’s torch bounces through the trees, reflecting back off the unnaturally smooth bark that reminds him they are on an alien planet. God, how stupid was he to let his guard down? Just because the LSD says there are no life signs doesn’t mean he can relax. This isn’t New Lantea. He should never have let Rodney go off on his own in the dark. What the fuck was he thinking? When they get back to Atlantis he’s going to have a long, hard talk about the twenty paces rule. If Rodney had been closer maybe he’d have heard the scuffle. Maybe he’d have- 

Ronon cries out in frustration up ahead, the sound startling enough that sleepy birds rush out of the treetops for safe harbour. When John arrives at the Stargate, panting from exertion, Teyla and Ronon are staring at the DHD in distress. 

“I only got five symbols,” says Ronon, hands fisted at his side. 

“Five symbols is better than none,” pants Teyla and she holsters her weapon in her BDUs.   


John falls to his knees, winded, and groans loudly, startled when Teyla comes up to him and puts her hand on his shoulder. “We will find him, John,” she says, and John can almost believe it from the conviction in her voice, but he’s overwhelmed with fear of what someone might be doing to Rodney. 

*** 

By the time the first live feed comes through the Stargate, two agonising days later, John’s just about lost his goddamn mind. The picture is dark and grainy, and not just because of the poor resolution. Rodney’s gagged and bound to a chair in the middle of the frame, hair askew and eyes wide with fear. His uniform is torn in places, a broken zipper, a sleeve hanging down, but he looks relatively unharmed and John is momentarily relieved by that. The room is windowless and dingy, lit only by a handful of flaming wall sconces, and John would bet his favourite puddle jumper that it’s underground. Rodney either doesn’t know the camera is there or he doesn’t think anyone is watching, and for a time nothing happens, he just sits there scanning the room as best he can for hidden dangers, teeth chewing his gag. 

The senior staff are all watching the feed in Ops while Radek frantically tries to find a way to determine the location of the other ‘gate. He’s pulling out all the stops, retrying things that have never worked before and bringing to life ideas that haven’t yet made it off the drawing board. Miko organises the entire science department into some kind of regimented manufacturing line, working so seamlessly that even the most hard-ass drill instructor would be impressed, gently encouraging everyone to share any and all ideas that they can squeeze from the darkest corners of their minds. If Rodney was here John knows he’d find a way, but then again if Rodney was here they wouldn’t be having this fucking problem. 

Woolsey is lenient in most things, but in one he’s strict in the way only a lawyer or politician can be – _We do not negotiate with terrorists._ It’s not a mentality that John subscribes to at the best of times, and especially not now. The problem John is having with this ethos is twofold. One, as his lover, it’s Rodney. Two, as his CO, Rodney’s knowledge is so vast he could single-handedly break through all of Atlantis’s defences, should his capturers so choose, or create weapons of such destruction that the whole galaxy would feel the effects. And while Rodney is a lot stronger than people think he is, everyone has a breaking point. When (not if) the kidnappers find Rodney’s, the game is up. But Woolsey doesn’t see it this way. Even as they watch the feed, he’s rationalising to John his decision not to let him and his team loose to interrogate half the galaxy as to Rodney’s whereabouts. 

“Colonel,” he says, and it’s always ‘Colonel’ when he disagrees with him. “The fact is until we know where he’s being held and by whom, we can’t do anything about it. I’m not willing to damage our alliances over this. We need them.” 

“We need Rodney more.” 

“No. We _want_ Rodney more. Without our alliances, we might as well pack up and go home.” 

“Without Rodney, we might as well do the same!” 

“John-” 

“If they break him-” 

“I know. As soon as we know where he is you have a go-” 

“How can we find out where he is if you won’t let me talk to anyone?!” 

“I’ve asked all of our allies and anyone else who will listen for help finding him. I’m not going to let you go and rough up people that we need to keep on side.” 

“If you’d just let me talk to-” 

“John.” 

Teyla’s voice brings their attention back to the feed. There’s movement in the corner and Rodney’s head snaps around, desperately straining to see who’s in the room with him. A man enters the frame, gripping Rodney's shoulder tightly in his hand. 

“Colonel Sheppard. I trust you can hear me.” 

John doesn’t recognise the man, and any clues to his affiliation have been stripped away. He’s dressed in generic mercenary gear, and while his weapons are primitive, the technology needed to send a live feed isn’t, so it’s a deliberate ruse. 

Woolsey presses a button on the console. “We can hear you-” he starts to say, but the man talks right over him. 

“As you can see, we have found Doctor McKay alive and well. He is perfectly comfortable. We’d be happy to return him to you, safe and sound. All we ask for in return is a small token of appreciation. A crate of C4. I am sending you a gate address to which you can send it. You have one hour.” 

Woolsey tries to speak again. “We need-” but the wormhole blinks out and the feed ends abruptly. 

“I do not believe he could hear us,” says Teyla. 

“That’s because it wasn’t a live feed,” says Chuck, analysing the video on his laptop. “It’s a pre-recorded video. I’ve saved the whole thing if you would like to take another look? We can put it through post-processing to see if we can get any more detail.” 

“Good idea, Sergeant,” says Woolsey. “Get someone on that ASAP.” 

“I will assist Chuck with the recording,” says Teyla, and John’s grateful for that. Teyla has the sharpest eyes of anyone he knows. 

John turns to Woolsey, who is leaning on the back of Chuck’s chair. “You have to let me talk to Radim,” he says. “It’s not a coincidence that they asked for C4.” 

“I will talk to Radim,” says Woolsey. “You need to trust me.” 

“I do, but I don’t trust them.” 

“Colonel, let me handle this. Chuck, dial the Genii.” 

John knows a dismissal when he hears one, so he strides out of the ‘gate room, Ronon and Lorne following on his heels. He slaps open the door to his office (a room that he’s actually started to use since becoming a full-bird Colonel) and slumps down behind his desk as Lorne sits on the visitor chair and Ronon rests his frame against the wall next to the door. 

“Sir...” begins Lorne. 

“What?” John’s snippy, but he just can’t help it, not even for his 2IC. 

Lorne takes it in his stride. “We could always mutiny,” he says with the utmost sincerity. “Just until we get Rodney back.” 

“I’m not sure we’re there yet. I’m still hopeful I can persuade Woolsey to let me off my leash.” 

“He only has you on a leash because you allow it,” says Ronon, spinning a blade in his hand. “You could take over Atlantis anytime. The whole of the military and most of the scientists would support you.” 

“That’s not true,” says John. 

“You know it is.” 

“But we need Woolsey. Ninety percent of the time, diplomacy is the right way to go, and he’s the second-best diplomat both the Milky Way and Pegasus have to offer.” After Elizabeth, he doesn’t say. He doesn’t need to. If she was still here, still in charge, they’d have interrogated the Genii on day one, and both Ronon and Lorne are smart enough to know that. 

“Sir, whatever you have to do to get Rodney back, the men will back you,” says Lorne. “But maybe Mr Woolsey will get somewhere with Radim.” 

*** 

Woolsey gets somewhere with Radim, if you count an offer of extra bodies to help in the search as progress. 

John storms into Woolsey’s office. “Richard-” 

“We don’t know that the Genii are involved, John,” says Woolsey, holding up his hands. 

John starts pacing, his body a coiled spring desperate for release. “We don’t know they’re not.” 

“Radim said-” 

“How many times has Radim lied to us that we know about? You always assume the best of people.” 

“And you always assume the worst.” 

“Then we have to give them the C4.” 

“I will not give explosives to terrorists.” 

“This is Rodney’s _life_ we’re talking about!" 

“If we give them the C4 there’s no reason to believe that they’ll let Rodney go. They might just keep Rodney _and_ the C4.” 

“But they _might_ let him go.” 

Woolsey sits down at his desk. “Can you tell me, in all honesty, that if it was someone other than Rodney you’d ask the same of me?” 

“If someone had you, I'd trade the C4 for your life.” It’s a lie and they both know it, but Woolsey doesn’t call him out on it. 

“Alright. Prep one crate of C4. I hope you’re right John.” 

*** 

No one comes for the C4. No one even checks if it’s there. 

*** 

It’s another two sleepless days before the second feed comes through. Radek and Miko are prepared for it and immediately resume their attempts to locate the kidnapper’s Stargate, while Chuck does everything he can think of to coax information from the feed, analysing everything down to the most inconsequential detail or fluctuation in video or audio. 

Rodney’s back in the chair (if he ever left it), minus his jacket and plus a black eye and split lip. Someone has done him over pretty good but he looks like he’s hanging in there and John’s proud of him even as his heart aches at the thought of him being beaten. Just like the last time the first few minutes of feed feature only Rodney, bound to the chair and tapping his fingers nervously against the armrest as he stares intently into the camera. He’s holding himself stiffly, like he aches all over, and his black eye is swollen (but not quite shut). There are sweat stains on his t-shirt and tear tracks through the dirt and blood on his face. John’s can’t stand the thought of Rodney crying. He silently swears that whoever has Rodney is going to pay for every time they laid a finger on him. 

A man comes into the frame, a different one from last time, and Rodney flinches when he brushes his hand across his right shoulder. 

“Let’s try this again,” says the man as he loosens the gag and slides it down Rodney’s face. “If you would only build us a bomb, we’d let you go home.” 

“No,” says Rodney, quietly, and John’s proud of his resolve even while he recoils the sound of the man backhanding Rodney’s face. Rodney’s lip reopens and he spits blood on the floor. “You can go fuck yourself. I’m not building you a nuclear warhead.” 

All this for a nuke? Sounds pretty fucking familiar. John glares at Woolsey, who shrugs him off and looks back to the screen. The man steps behind Rodney and puts his hand on his injured shoulder. “Are you quite sure about that, Doctor McKay?” He squeezes and Rodney cries out, wincing with the pain until the man lets go. 

“I’m pretty fucking sure, asshole,” spits Rodney, and he cries out again as the man’s grip tightens once more. People would be surprised by how high Rodney’s pain threshold actually is given that he’ll happily complain about a papercut, so when Rodney starts to cry John realises that his collarbone must be broken. New tears streak down Rodney’s face, tracking through the blood from his lip, and Rodney sobs, gasping heaving breaths in. The man holds on for the longest time then releases him suddenly, and Rodney slumps forward, chin to chest, sucking in air through his teeth. The man grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back until he’s looking at the camera, pulling the gag back into his mouth. Rodney whimpers as the man rests his free hand back on his injured shoulder. 

“The price for Doctor McKay’s life just went up. One nuclear warhead to the following ‘gate address. You have one hour.” 

The wormhole disengages and the feed stops abruptly. John looks at Radek, who shakes his head, but he didn’t really expect it to work. 

“Was there anything to indicate where the feed came from?” asks Woolsey. 

“No, sir,” says Chuck. 

Teyla turns from the viewscreen, shaking with rage. “They do not want a nuclear warhead any more than they wanted C4.” 

“Agreed,” says Woolsey, tapping his fingers on the console. “I don’t think this is about material gains.” 

“You think it’s personal?” asks Ronon. 

Radek throws his tablet down on his workstation. “Why Rodney? There were four of you on the planet, any one of you could have been taken.” 

“Rodney is the most physically vulnerable of all of us,” says Teyla. 

“Yes,” agrees Radek. “But you would not necessarily know that just by looking at him. He is certainly no marine but he has become stronger and fitter over the years.” 

Teyla tilts her head. “So...whoever took him has first-hand knowledge. Someone we have already dealt with.” 

“Someone who knows AR-1 well enough to know Rodney’s worth as well as his weakness,” says Lorne. “And has the means, motive and opportunity to grab him.” 

“And who knows that we have C4,” growls John. “Which brings us back to the Genii.” 

“Amongst others, Colonel,” says Woolsey. 

“They’re still the top of the list. I want to speak to Radim.” 

Woolsey must sense that this would be a losing battle because he acquiesces. “Very well. Chuck, if you would dial the Genii? Colonel, you have the floor. Try not to antagonise him too much please.” 

Antagonise, yeah right. If Radim is involved in Rodney’s disappearance, John will kill him. 

Radim answers their communication request personally. If he’s surprised to see John, it doesn't show. “Colonel Sheppard. I assume this isn’t a social call?” 

“It isn’t.” 

“How goes the search for Doctor McKay?” 

“We haven’t found him.” 

“And you suspect us, naturally.” 

John answers truthfully. “The thought crossed my mind.” 

“I understand. All I can say is I wouldn’t jeopardise our relationship by bringing harm to a member of your team and promise that if I hear anything at all I will contact you immediately. But if you wish to visit us to assuage your suspicions I would, of course, be glad to host you.” 

John’s spent his whole military career reading people’s intentions, it’s a skill you have to hone when you’re vulnerable to stealth attacks from insurgents, and Radim seems genuine in his concern. This throws John for a moment, he was so sure the Genii were involved. 

“We are your allies, and we are glad to be so. I swear to you that the Genii have no reason to kidnap Doctor McKay. He has always been generous with his time and expertise. If we needed something from him, we would simply ask.” 

John scrubs his face. “Okay, alright.” 

“I am sorry I am not able to return him to you, Sheppard.” 

“If you hear anything...” 

“The moment I do I’ll contact you.” 

John motions to Chuck to cut the connection and turns back to Woolsey. To his credit he doesn’t say ‘I told you so’. 

“If not the Genii, then who?” 

“I don't know, John. But we will find him.” 

John wants to believe that, but he’s already failed Rodney once. “Are we going to send anything to the gate address they sent us?” 

“Yes,” says Woolsey. “You.” 

*** 

What’s left of AR-1 camps out on the designated world with a squad of marines and a convincing fake nuke that Radek was keeping for a rainy day. It’s been some time since John had to stake out a location, and he spares a moment to be glad for the forestry and undergrowth surrounding the Stargate so they can hide with it in sight. Lorne is in a cloaked puddle jumper hovering above the ‘gate, ready to dial out to a predetermined and fully manned beta site the moment someone comes through so whoever they are, they can’t escape back home. If only the kidnappers would come through the ‘gate already. It’s been hours since the deadline passed and still nothing. 

“Lorne, anything on the sensors?” 

“Negative, sir. There are no life signs within the sensor’s range.” 

“So they didn’t come here before us.” 

“Doesn’t look that way, sir” 

“Damn it.” 

No one says what they’re all thinking. No one is coming for the nuke. 

*** 

“What could they ask for that is more powerful than a nuclear weapon?” asks Teyla when they rematerialise in the gate room. 

“I don’t know,” says John. “But they’re going to get a nasty shock when we finally find them.” He passes his P90 to an airman to be stowed in the armoury then rushes up the gate room stairs. “Radek?! Tell me you have something.” 

“I’m sorry Colonel; we have been unable to match the symbols Ronon memorised to any of the addresses we took from the DHD on M2A-923. And there is nothing in the video feed to indicate a location or planet. They are being very careful with what they send to us.” 

“Fuck.” 

“Yes, precisely. But perhaps the next time they dial us we will be successful in revealing the address they are dialling from.” 

If the pattern holds true, the kidnappers will dial Atlantis again in another two days. John isn’t sure he can hold it together that long. He heads to his quarters to shower. There are signs of Rodney all over the room. Powerbar wrappers in the bin, pyjama bottoms crumpled in a heap on the floor, a laptop running a three-week simulation on top of the chest of drawers. Rodney technically still has his own quarters, but their relationship is an open secret on Atlantis and he pretty much lives with John in his room with its tiny bed and cramped shower. It’s always interesting trying to settle in to sleep on the bed, and someone (usually John) ends up with their legs hanging out, but requisitioning a larger bed would raise some eyebrows at the SGC. Unless they find something within Atlantis, they’re stuck elbowing each other every time they turn over. John hasn’t slept in the bed since Rodney went missing, has made do with power naps on the sofa in his office for days on end. It’s unthinkable to get under the covers alone, to slide into a comfortable bed when Rodney is being held prisoner and beaten, afraid and in pain. 

*** 

The third feed comes through on schedule, and he doesn’t need Chuck’s announcement that it’s live this time to know there’s something different. The room is brighter, the angle wider, and Rodney is slumped over in the chair, visibly exhausted and completely oblivious to the camera pointed at him. The swelling around his eye is lessened, though his lip is still split and there are new bruises on his face. He’s been stripped of his t-shirt, and dark contusions contrast sharply with the pale expanse of his chest. His right shoulder is bruised and swollen where the fracture must be. Rodney’s out cold; he doesn’t so much as twitch when the door opens, even though it scrapes on the stone floor noisily. 

When Kolya enters the frame and stands behind Rodney, hands draped on his shoulders, John realises that negotiation was never an option. Rodney doesn’t flinch at the touch, and if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest he’d look dead. 

“Hello John,” says Kolya, directly into the camera. “I wonder, did you take a nuke with you when you scoped out the planet we sent you to?” 

John can barely believe his eyes and ears. Kolya’s supposed to be dead. John put a bullet in his chest. Beckett checked and rechecked and called it. He was stone cold when they returned his body to the Genii. Clearly the son of a bitch walked it off. It takes John a minute to remember that this is a live feed and he can communicate directly with Kolya. But would it make things better or worse? Before he can make up his mind, Woolsey activates the intercom and speaks. 

“Acastus Kolya, I presume.” 

For a moment, Kolya looks genuinely surprised. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” he asks. 

“Richard Woolsey, leader of Atlantis.” 

“Where is Doctor Weir?” 

Woolsey’s back straightens and he stiffens all over. “That is none of your concern,” he says, abruptly. 

“Very well,” says Kolya dismissively. “I take it Colonel Sheppard is with you?” 

“I’m here,” says John. “I thought you were dead, Kolya.” 

Kolya smiles. “You should know better than that, John.” 

“What do you want?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kolya presses a button on his console, then reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a small vial of something. He waves it in front of Rodney’s face and Rodney jerks awake suddenly, straining at his bonds, leaning away from the hand in front of his face. “Who’s there?!” he croaks, twisting to see who the hand belongs to. 

“Doctor McKay, how nice of you to join us.” 

It takes only a moment for Rodney to recognise the voice and he pales in horror, trying desperately to pull away from the man behind him. “K-Kolya?!” 

Kolya moves to Rodney’s side. “Observant as ever, I see. Tell me, have you been enjoying our hospitality?” 

“Whatever you want, the answer is no.” 

“All I want you to do is stay awake.” Kolya gestures offscreen and a man comes into view and hovers at Rodney’s shoulder. Rodney glances between him and Kolya as Kolya unrolls a pouch of tools on the table next to him. From Rodney’s vantage point he won’t be able to see what Kolya is playing with, but John can see the bright reflection of carefully polished metal. Whatever he’s going to do, it’s going to be bloody. 

“Kolya!” growls John. Rodney’s head swivels back and forth between the two men, trying to see what’s going on. 

“You’re a scientist, Doctor McKay, so you’ll appreciate that you can’t keep doing the same thing over and over and expect the outcome to change. We need a new cause for a different effect. Pick a number between one and ten.” 

“I…what? No,” says Rodney. 

“If you don’t choose, I will, and I promise you that the outcome will be many times worse.” 

“I…uh…I don’t…uh…two?” 

Kolya nods, and the other man grabs Rodney’s bound left hand and flattens it against the arm of the chair. 

“What’s going on?!” cries Rodney in fear, but John suddenly understands what he’s about to witness. 

“Kolya, don’t do this!” he shouts at the screen, but Kolya must have turned off his audio because no one can hear him. Rodney doesn’t know he’s watching this. From where the camera is angled, everyone in Ops has a front-row seat to the event and John prays that Radek will suddenly determine the address of Kolya’s Stargate, but he knows that he’s going to have to watch his lover get hurt and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. As Kolya selects his weapon of choice, something that looks a hell of a lot like a pair of curved pruning shears, one by one the rest of the people in Ops begin to realise what he’s going to do. Rodney gets a look at the shears and whimpers. Next to John Teyla cries out, her hands gripping the back of Chuck’s chair. 

“No, no,” she says, quietly. 

Ronon grabs Miko and Radek by the arms and turns them around, away from the viewscreen – “You don’t wanna see this, Docs” – but they are both determined not to look away from Rodney. All eyes are on him as Kolya approaches, and Rodney cries out even before he touches him, still trying to curl his hand into a fist to protect himself. “Oh god, no! John! JOHN!” 

“I’m going to send you back to Sheppard in pieces,” says Kolya, with a hint of a menacing smile, and he descends on Rodney with ruthless efficiency. He counts out - “One...Two.” - and Rodney cries out as a terrible snicking sound comes through the speakers. There is a moment of silence before Rodney screams in agony, throwing his head back, the tendons in his neck tense and protruding as he wails through the pain. Kolya looks triumphant as he holds up Rodney’s ring finger to the camera and terminates the feed. 

When the viewscreen goes black, the only sound to be heard is that of Miko sobbing into Ronon’s shoulder. 

*** 

John tells Woolsey to go fuck himself when he starts making apologetic noises. It’s too little too late. If John had been allowed to go to the Genii homeworld in the beginning, all of this might have been prevented. Rodney’s afraid and in pain and in the hands of Kolya. John’s been at the man’s mercy before, knows it’s a bad place to be, and Rodney doesn’t have the training to withstand his brand of torture. John has to get to him, quickly, before Kolya has the chance to break Rodney down. Radim might not know where Rodney is but he has to know _something,_ even if he doesn’t realise it. John’s going to find out what that is and he’s going to get Rodney back, no matter what. 

Lorne proves himself to be the greatest 2IC of all time by having two teams of Marines geared up preemptively and bringing AR-1’s gear to the gate room, so it’s only a matter of moments before they are ready to go and John tells Chuck to dial the Genii gate. Before the dialling sequence initiates, the stargate activates and there’s the tell-tale whoosh of an incoming wormhole. Chuck initiates the shield and moments later something impacts it with a thud before the wormhole fizzles out. The whole of the command centre pauses and John knows, _knows,_ that it was Rodney’s finger that was sent through. Furious, he snaps at Chuck to resume dialling the Genii homeworld, and the familiar blue of the event horizon fills the Stargate. 

Woolsey calls out “Colonel!” from the balcony, and John begrudgingly spares a second to turn and face him. “Bring him home,” he orders. 

John nods, resolute, and strides through the ‘gate flanked by Teyla and Ronon and his men. 

“To hell with the alliance,” he says when they are all through. “If Ladon Radim has a problem, he can say it to the barrel of my gun.” 

“Yessir!” chant all his men in unison. 

It’s quite a show of force he’s brought with him, but Radim must be expecting him because they meet no resistance on their trek through the farming village to the barn where the entrance to the bunker is concealed. There are people out in the fields ploughing and sowing in equal measure. They look up at the Atlanteans with interest, but no one makes a move to block them and none of the militia come running out of the woods. It’s not until they approach the barn that someone comes to talk to them. 

“Colonel Sheppard?” asks a young soldier, and if the troupe before him makes him nervous, he hides it well. John nods. “Chief Radim is waiting for you.” 

When he opens the bunker hatch, John makes to climb down the ladder but one of his marines, Lieutenant Crown, stops him with her arm. “Sir. It could be a trap.” 

“It could be, Lieutenant, but there is no force in the Pegasus Galaxy that can stop me questioning Radim.” 

“No sir, but with respect, I’m going first.” 

Before John can say anything, Crown swivels onto the ladder and starts making her way down. Two more marines follow straight after her, and by the time John steps off the bottom of the ladder they are positioned in a standard formation covering both directions down the corridor. It’s clear they’re going to throw themselves into danger ahead of their commanding officer no matter how much he protests so he directs them to the main antechamber of the underground bunker. He raises an eyebrow at Lorne as he steps off the ladder, but his 2IC just smirks at him and says “Marines, sir. Whatcha gonna do?” 

The first thing John says to Radim when they barrel into the room is “Would you like to tell me exactly how Kolya survived a bullet to the chest?” 

Radim doesn’t bat an eyelid at the abrupt lack of greeting. “He didn’t. He died.” 

“Clearly he got better.” 

“Not possible, Colonel. He’s buried in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of the village.” 

“Would that be the fake village or the real one?” asks Ronon, hand on his blaster. 

“The one above ground. It’s a real village. Where do you think all our food comes from?” 

Teyla steps forward. “Do you mean to tell us that the great Commander Kolya was not given a state funeral?” she says with as much sarcasm as John’s ever heard come out of her mouth. 

Radim makes an uncomfortable face. “Kolya disgraced us all. He wasn’t worthy of a funeral. And he’s not a commander. He was stripped of his rank posthumously.” 

“So you have no idea where he is?” asks John. 

“I know exactly where he is. Six feet under, buried in the roots of a Ruus tree on the other side of the village.” 

“Then how is it he made a collect video call to us half an hour ago?” 

Radim’s face drains of colour. “How can that be?” 

“You tell us.” 

“I have no… Ancestors, he was dead, I swear it. I examined his body myself. It lay on this very table for many hours after you returned it to us. He was buried in the middle of the night without ritual.” 

Radim’s words bring something to the forefront of John’s mind. “When we last spoke, you said ‘I am sorry I am not able to return him to you’. Did you know about my relationship with Rodney?” 

The non-sequitur doesn’t rattle Radim. “Of course I did. It’s obvious to anyone that has spent time with both of you.” 

“Does anyone else know?” 

“Yes, I assume so. I don’t believe it’s a secret.” 

“Think, Radim. Has anyone commented on it in the past few months?” 

“Actually, it did come up in conversation with someone, but I didn’t-“ 

“Who?” 

“Commander Prenum. He’s-“ 

“The man that gave Elizabeth the nuclear warheads,” says Teyla. 

“He’s also the man responsible for burying Kolya,” admits Radim, eyes fixed over John’s shoulder. “He asked me if the rumours of your relationship were true. I…told him that as far as I knew they were.” 

“Shit. This isn’t about Rodney,” says Lorne. “This is about the Colonel.” 

“Oh God. He’s hurting Rodney to hurt me,” says John. 

*** 

Radim orders Commander Prenum be brought to him immediately, and barely a few minutes later the man is dragged into the room by Radim’s honour guard. It’s clear that he knows what’s going on by the look of feigned indifference in his eyes. 

“Chief Radim,” he says with obvious disdain. “You did not need to send your guards for me. I would have answered a summons.” 

“Prenum,” says Radim, and the loss of rank is noticeable. “I will not ask you to explain yourself, I simply don’t care. I was already aware of you sowing seeds of dissent and have been for months, but your latest bedfellow has put one of our most important alliances in jeopardy. The penalty for treason is death.” 

“The only traitor is you!” spits Prenum. “Commander Kolya worked tirelessly-“ 

“Save it for the trial. I’m not interested in excuses.” Radim shoves Prenum down into a seat and cuffs his wrists to the arms. “Ordinarily I’d interrogate you myself, but I’m hoping a display of co-operation will go some way towards mending the rift you’ve torn in our alliance with Atlantis.” He looks at John who nods his ascent. Allowing him to interrogate Prenum is a grand gesture, and not one he’s sure he’d make if the situation was reversed. He’ll take it gratefully. Radim orders his guards to follow him and leaves the room, pulling the heavy, metal door shut behind them. 

Grand gesture or not, there’s only so long Radim will allow John to have with Prenum and he’ll be fucked if he’s going away empty-handed. He’s interrogated people before, nudged them into a fearful headspace to get them to cooperate but he knows that won’t work on Prenum. He’s never actually tortured anyone, never needed to, but he’s been on the wrong end of it a few times and once he talked a man into allowing Todd to feed on him. His soul is already marked and Rodney needs him yesterday. He’s going to take a leaf out of the Sarah Connor book of getting what you want. 

“There are two hundred and six bones in the human body,” he says as he yanks a metal pipe off the wall. His men are all watching and he needs them to bear witness, to stop him going off the deep end. Not a soul here will tell Woolsey what he does to get Rodney back; Teyla, Ronon and Lorne all want Rodney back as much as he does, and it’s no coincidence that Lorne chose some of the fiercest, most loyal, first-generation members of Atlantis’ military to come with them. 

He looks Prenum in the eye and swings the pipe, slamming it into the man’s tibia with enough force to shatter it in several places. The scream that comes out of Prenum’s mouth echoes around the room. 

“One down, two hundred and five to go,” says John, flipping the pipe back and forth between his hands. 

“I won’t...talk,” says Prenum from between gritted teeth. 

“Everyone has a breaking point,” says John, smiling cruelly. 

“Are you...talking from experience...Colonel Sheppard?” 

“Yes. And now we find yours.” 

*** 

Prenum informs them that Kolya is hiding out in an old bunker with a handful of loyal men on M2A-923, and it’s just bad luck that AR-1 was discovered when they went to the planet. The dial out was a ruse, they didn’t leave the planet at all, just took Rodney to their bunker and sent a man to dial the gate to put them off the scent. Prenum had told Kolya that Rodney was John’s lover weeks before, and it’s likely that he would have targeted him in the future if he ever caught wind of their whereabouts. What John finds interesting is that neither Prenum nor Kolya knew of Elizabeth’s death. Clearly Radim is keeping the details of the Genii-Atlantis alliance close to his chest, it’s just unfortunate that John and Rodney’s relationship wasn’t given as much discretion. He isn’t going to hold it against Radim, not after he walked back into the room and let them all go after seeing what John had to do to get Rodney’s location. 

“This time we’ll burn the body,” promises Radim as he sees them personally to the Stargate. 

John dials Atlantis to update them on what they’ve found out, but doesn’t go back to the city. His people are all armed and ready to infiltrate the bunker on M2A-923, and there’s nothing else they need, so they immediately disengage the wormhole and dial the planet where this all began. There’s no one on watch when they step through, and as Ronon searches for tracks leading from the 'gate, John berates himself for not considering the possibility that Rodney never left. They’d come back a couple of times to search for clues at the campsite, and so Radek could grab the addresses stored in the buffer of the DHD, but no one thought to look for tracks around the ‘gate or signs of life on what they assumed was an uninhabited planet. Sure there are ruins, but everything is older than Atlantis itself and dilapidated beyond habitation. That Kolya has found something serviceable is very telling; he obviously has no allies left to turn to and has to settle for what he can find. 

“I’ve got them,” says Ronon when he comes back. “There’s a clear trail heading West. Well worn. I should have spotted it when they took McKay.” 

John double checks his P90 and his sidearm. “It was the middle of the night and we thought he’d been taken through the gate. No one could have done anything more than we did.” 

“But I-” 

“No. None of that. We’re here now and we’ve found them. That’s all that matters.” Everyone is waiting for his order and he turns to face his marines. “Move out!” 

Ronon leads the way, following the track through the undergrowth, Lorne on their six. The sun is high in the sky but they are protected by the lush canopy above them blocking most of the rays. It’s a long trek, several miles through uneven terrain and John wonders how long Kolya and his men have been hiding here to be able to traverse it in the pitch black of the planet’s nights, especially with Rodney as prisoner. Then it hits him. They didn’t. 

Once John, Teyla and Ronon were running back to the ‘gate they must have doubled back and held Rodney in the campsite until dawn. All they had to do was set a partial trail leading off towards the ‘gate, then send their fastest runner to dial an address, any address, to put them off the scent. That’s how he would have done it. In hindsight it’s a remarkably simple ruse to pull off, and this angers John all the more. Rodney’s been here the whole time while John was off trying to find the right planet. Radek’s been remarkable in Rodney’s absence, doing ingenious things try to find the address, but it was all pointless, they had it all along. And now Rodney’s hurt, scared and waiting for rescue. _Goddamn_ it. All this because Kolya holds a grudge. When John finds him he’s going to kill him again, and this time it’s going to stick. 

*** 

The bunker is old and decaying, the entrance partially buried in thousands of years' worth of detritus. There’s only one guard, such is Kolya’s confidence in his ruse, and he’s taken out in moments by Teyla, quick and light on her feet. She drops him gracefully to the ground and takes his firearm. 

“Lorne, I want you to secure the site and keep an eye out for any more of Kolya’s men,” says John. “Keep hidden, quick and quiet. I don’t want to announce our presence unless we have absolutely no choice. He might Kill Rodney if he hears us coming. Radio silence.” 

“Yes sir. Quick and quiet,” says Lorne. He turns to the Marines behind them. “Crown, Donovan, take a team each and secure both approaches to the bunker. No weapons fire. Radio silence.” 

“Understood,” say both Lieutenants, and they split the rest of the men between them and set off to surround the bunker. Lorne heads out to do a perimeter check, moving anticlockwise around the outskirts of the clearing. 

“Sheppard,” says Ronon, grabbing John’s arm as they step out from the trees. 

“Yeah?” 

“When he tries to bait you, don’t let him.” 

“Not going to be an issue buddy.” 

“Good.” Ronon lets go and takes up the rear behind Teyla. John goes first, stepping in through the open door and softly padding down the steps, his rubber soles utterly silent on the stone. There are burning sconces on the wall giving off both light and heat in the cramped space, and their shadows flicker in long, sweeping smudges on the walls and floor. Once down John enters the first room, snapping the neck of the only man inside and lowering him down. “Clear,” he whispers as he comes back into the corridor. Teyla takes the next room, and Ronon the next, and they sweep through the bunker in formation like a well-choreographed dance. The bunker is sparsely populated, Kolya’s reach has obviously diminished markedly since John killed him, and it’s pure luck that no one has to fire any bullets. The few men that remain in Kolya’s employ are spread out and paying little attention to their environment, so secure in their arrogance that they won’t be found. Taking them out is child’s play. 

They find Kolya in a room towards the back end of the bunker, pouring over some documents at a table. He looks up, surprised, as they slide into the room, Ronon keeping watch on the corridor outside and Teyla training her gun as she checks the shadowy corners for hidden men. The room is cluttered and lived in despite the cracked walls and scuffed floor. 

Kolya stands, smirking, and starts to speak. “Colonel Sheppard, how nice-” He obviously wants a showdown, something dramatic like the last time they met, but John isn’t having any of it. He aims his Beretta and squeezes the trigger, putting a bullet through Kolya’s windpipe. Kolya grabs at his throat with his hands and sucks in a wheezing breath. 

“I’m not playing your games, Kolya,” says John, and he fires again, putting a second bullet in Kolya’s heart. When the Kolya drops to the ground, John holsters his Beretta and empties the clip of his P90 into his head until there is nothing but a big, bloody smear left, then reloads and puts another into all of his major organs, vaguely aware of Ronon and Teyla firing their weapons out in the hallway behind him. The body is unrecognisable when he’s done. Radim will just have to take John’s word for it that it’s really Kolya. 

There’s a door on the other side of the room, it’s big and heavy and double padlocked, and it has to be where they’re keeping Rodney. John shoots off the locks and heaves it open, letting Ronon head in first and following close behind. There are no sconces in the room so he turns on the light on his P90 and shines it around. It’s bigger than it looked on the video feed, wide and sweeping and with a cell door on the far side and Rodney’s chair in the middle. There is blood on the seat and arms, old and dried, and a tacky puddle of it on the floor underneath. This is where they had him, this is where they hurt him. Hit him. Cut off his finger. Broke his bones. John prays that they left him alone after the camera cut out, but his heart pounds in his chest at the thought of what they’re going to find in the cell. 

The door to the cell is big and heavy, with an internal lock that can’t be shot open. “I will search for a key,” says Teyla, and John nods at her retreating back. He shines his light on the wall. There are no windows either side but there is a barred opening just above it, and he can see through to the ceiling on the other side. 

“Boost me?” he says to Ronon. 

Ronon interlocks his hands and crouches low so he can lift John up to the grill, and John grabs on to the bars with one hand as he shines his light in through them with the other. He spots someone in the far corner, curled up protectively, their broad back facing the cell door. 

“Rodney?” 

The body stirs, and Rodney’s blue eyes peer over the shoulder towards the door. “Joh-n?” he gasps. The relief John feels at finding his lover is instant and palpable. He visually checks Rodney over as he uncurls himself and stands up. He’s holding his right arm awkwardly to try to alleviate the break in his collar bone, and his left hand is pressed tight against his chest. John can see the wound where his finger once was, it’s scabbed over and angry looking, and there are trails of blood all down his arm, but Rodney’s otherwise whole and standing on his own two feet, and that counts for something. He’s also naked. John assumes that Rodney managed to really piss off Kolya running his mouth when they cut off his finger so the asshole took the rest of his clothes, and that angers him all the more. Rodney hates to be naked and vulnerable, even when it’s just the two of them. To be stripped and flung in a cold, damp cell must be unbearable. Thank god they didn’t strip him entirely before the last video feed. Having the entire senior staff see him naked would only compound his displeasure at the indignity he has endured. 

“John?” says Rodney, again. 

“Yeah buddy, I’m here.” 

“I’m hurt.” 

“I know, I’m coming,” promises John. “Hang on.” 

Ronon lowers John back down as Teyla returns with a ring of keys. John takes it from her and fumbles with them, trying to find the right one, the one that will free Rodney. His hands are shaking and he keeps missing the keyhole. At last one fits and he unlocks the door, yanking it open so hard it bangs on the wall and jostles its hinges. The smell is the first thing to hit them, blood and piss and the sickly stench of a week’s worth of sweat. Rodney’s just standing there, a look of pure happiness on his face and tears falling down his cheeks. John pulls an emergency blanket out of his tac vest and steps into the cell, shaking the blanket out of its folds. He wraps it tightly around Rodney’s waist and tucks the end in, then touches Rodney’s face with both hands. He’s alive and warm and breathing, and he leans into John’s touch with a whimper. Pressing his forehead against Rodney's, they stand like that for a time, listening to each other breathe and revelling in the touch. 

When they make eye contact, John sees that Rodney’s swollen eye is bloodshot and weeping, and his split lip has been reopened; it’s going to need stitching to get it to heal. They pull apart after a few more long moments, and the joy on Rodney’s face is a comfort. He’s going to be okay. 

“You’re safe now,” says John, swinging Rodney’s good arm over his shoulder and guiding him out of the cell barefoot. “Kolya’s dead.” 

“Till the next time,” says Rodney, treading carefully on the rough floor. 

“Permanently. He’s not going to walk this one off.” 

“I see what you mean,” agrees Rodney as they enter the other room and he spots the remains of Kolya’s head. He’s leaning heavily on John as he walks, unsteady on his feet. Ronon finds his clothes and he and Teyla stand guard as John helps him back into them. They’re dirty and foul-smelling but they’re better than nothing at all. Rodney leans on the desk as John guides his feet into his BDUs and socks and boots. He’s shivering under the space blanket and leaning over a little too far, his hand on John’s shoulder. He’s obviously cold, but that’s not all it is. He’s in shock, from the butchering of his hand and everything he has had to suffer through during his captivity. What John witnessed won’t be all that Rodney experienced. If only they’d explored the planet more thoroughly, if only- no. That helps no one. Rodney is here and he’s alive, and he’s going to be okay. 

Rodney’s t-shirt and the thighs of his BDUs are dark with dried blood and if Kolya wasn’t already dead John would put a bullet in his gut and leave him to die slowly in the cell, alone and in agony. He suppresses his anger as he pulls the t-shirt over Rodney’s head. Kolya’s dead, it’s over, and Rodney is going to be fine. That will have to be enough to see them both through this. 

*** 

Lieutenant Crown produces a collapsible stretcher from her rucksack and Rodney is loaded onto it despite his vehement protesting. It’s miles back to the ‘gate and John wants him back on Atlantis and in the care of the medical team ASAP. Ronon and Donovan pick up the stretcher between them and make off at a brisk walk, John keeping pace beside them so he can keep an eye on Rodney. He trusts his men to keep them safe, doesn’t need to take point personally to know that they’ll make it back in one piece. 

By the time the Stargate comes into view, Rodney’s dozing on and off, exhausted from his ordeal. John doesn’t have the heart to wake him up, he knows that in his place he’d not have slept much for fear of what Kolya might do. He hasn’t asked Rodney how bad it got, doesn’t want to push him too far too fast, but the fear that it was worse than he saw tugs at his resolve. Rodney’s bruised and marked, and still terrified despite his rescue. It’s going to be a while before his emotions settle and he can relax enough to rest properly. It’s going to be a while before John can relax too, but when they step through the ‘gate he knows he has to part from Rodney to debrief Woolsey and give Keller a chance to treat Rodney’s wounds without distraction. 

He kisses Rodney’s cheek even though they are in full view of numerous personnel, knowing that no one will begrudge him that small bit of comfort, then watches as Ronon and Donovan whisk Rodney away to the infirmary. Lorne offers to take his gear and he hands it over gratefully before heading up the stairs and into Woolsey’s office, palming the door shut behind him. 

“Kolya’s dead,” he says without preamble. 

“I assume this is a permanent affection?” 

John nods grimly. 

“Good.” Woolsey pauses, hesitant. “I am glad to see Rodney back safe and sound,” he says sincerely. 

“We would have had him back sooner and relatively unhurt if you had let me speak to Radim when this all began.” 

“I know John. You were right, and I am sorry. I only hope that the harm caused to Rodney isn’t permanent.” 

“He’s tough. He’ll pull through. He’s going to be pissed about his finger though.” 

“I can imagine.” 

“Do you need me to walk you through the mission?” 

“I think it can wait for your report. I have a fairly good idea how it must have gone.” 

“Okay. I’ll just...” John points his thumb over his shoulder. 

“Very well, Colonel. Dismissed.” 

*** 

It’s a couple of days before Rodney is released from the infirmary. As well as the fractured collar bone, split lip, and hacked off finger, he was dehydrated, had eye socket and cheekbone fractures, and a kidney infection and conjunctivitis. The conditions he had been held in were unsanitary and the treatment he received spared no thought to his longevity. John spends Rodney’s whole infirmary visit by his side, doing his best to cheer him up and keep his mind from his captivity, but there’s a lot to be said and most of it requires more privacy than a hospital cubicle and a curtained screen can provide. Neither of them has ever been big on PDAs but they touch as often as they possibly can when no one is looking. Rodney doesn’t talk about his time as Koyla’s prisoner and John gives him space to process it. Woolsey postpones the debriefing until Rodney's had a chance to acclimatise back to being on Atlantis, and John’s thankful for the consideration he’s showing. It doesn’t make up for his actions, but it’s a start. 

Things come to a head on the second day after Rodney has a seizure. Keller informs John that it’s a consequence of poorly maintained hypoglycaemia and hydration and it’s to be expected as Rodney’s body is refuelled and rehydrated. Even knowing that it is benign, it’s frightening to watch Rodney go through it, and he’s outraged (but not surprised) when Rodney admits to having had a couple of seizures towards the end of his captivity. He tried to explain to the men holding him that he had a metabolic ailment, but no one had taken any heed of his warnings. He was fed little and sparingly, barely enough to get by, and his water was warm and unfiltered. He held off drinking it for a couple of days for fear of illness but extreme thirst got the better of him and he gave in. It’s really no wonder he’s left with sluggish kidneys. Despite the seizure, Rodney’s patience with the medical staff plummets to zero and he informs Keller of his unhappiness in no uncertain terms. 

“Leave me alone! Everyone to stop touching me and injecting me and asking me if I’m okay. I just want to go to my quarters and take a shower and get some sleep.” 

Keller acquiesces with the provision that John doesn’t leave his side, and John takes that as implicit permission to take him back to his room and keep him there for the foreseeable future. 

Rodney starts stripping as soon as the door to John’s room closes and dumps the scrubs on the floor, heading into the bathroom and turning on the shower. John’s still dithering whether to give him space or go and sit with him when Rodney calls out to him - “Are you getting in, or what?” - and John smiles at his snippy tone. It’s such a normal Rodney thing to say. 

“Alright, I’m coming, keep your pants on, sheesh.” 

John strips and steps into the bathroom, immediately cataloguing all of Rodney’s body. It's been a couple of days since he rescued him from the cell, and in that time some of the bruises have started to yellow while new ones have come out. His broken collarbone is mottled yellow and purple, and now that it’s less swollen it’s clear it was done by something hard and heavy - there’s an imprint of something cylindrical in his flesh. His facial swelling has abated and with treatment his eye has cleared up, but there are still stitches in his lip and ligature abrasions from the rope keeping him in the chair, and all John can see is Rodney’s pained face when he was being hurt on camera. 

“What?” says Rodney, grabbing the shampoo. 

“Jesus, Rodney. You’re black and blue, and-” 

“I’m okay.” 

“You don’t have to play the tough guy with me. I know what it feels like to be tortured.” 

“It wasn’t really-” 

“No. Don’t. It was torture, Rodney.” 

Rodney’s quiet for a moment. He hands John the shampoo and turns around. John squeezes it out and starts scrubbing at Rodney’s scalp gently, mindful of his facial bruising. It isn’t until John’s rinsed his hair out and started on his body with a washcloth that Rodney speaks again. 

“I think they were torturing you, not me.” 

“Well it worked,” growls John, but Rodney doesn’t reply, and they finish the shower in contemplative silence. 

They eat dinner in the mess with Teyla and Ronon, where people nod at them, but in an uncharacteristic show of understanding they don’t approach Rodney and overwhelm him. After, the team all retire to John’s room. Teyla moves to Rodney when he sits on the bed and makes a sound; a kind of low, pained growl. She doesn’t say anything, just holds her hands out for Rodney’s and grasps them gently, eyeing the dressing over the stump of his finger. She turns them this way and that, checking them from all angles, then unzips his jacket and pulls it down his arms. Rodney tolerates her hands on him gracefully and silently, and she touches him all over, something she’s never done before. She checks his arms, his legs and feet, his scalp and face and neck, lifts his t-shirt and slides her hands down his chest and back. It’s as though she can’t trust just her eyes that Rodney is home and safe, she needs something more to ground her. Rodney doesn’t usually allow this much physical contact from anyone other than John, but Teyla’s team, closer than family, and John knows that Rodney loves her as much as he does his sister. If Teyla needs this, she can have it willingly. Ronon watches closely as Teyla touches, his eyes taking in the expanse of Rodney’s skin, the width of his shoulders and length of his limbs, and John can tell that he’s reassuring himself too. It’s been hard on all of them. Teyla and Ronon are warriors in their own right, pain is part of their life, but to watch Rodney be systematically hurt and be unable to do anything about it...it’s as hard on them as it was on John. No one has ever said it out loud, but all three of them know that they’d all give their lives to keep Rodney safe from harm. 

Finally, Teyla presses her forehead to Rodney’s and talks to him in a low voice. Rodney replies, but John can’t hear what either of them are saying, makes no effort to find out. Whatever they’re talking about is a private thing between them, and John has no business intruding. When Teyla stands, Ronon puts one hand on Rodney’s good shoulder and cradles his head in the other. “Glad you’re back,” he says, and it’s as expressive as John’s ever heard him. He suppresses a smile, doesn’t want to break the moment that Ronon and Rodney are clearly basking in. When Teyla and Ronon leave, it’s with smiles on their faces, and Rodney’s mood is a little lighter than before. 

*** 

It’s not until they’re tucked up in bed that John gives in, finally asks the question that’s been on his tongue for days. 

“How bad did it get?” 

Rodney twists and turns, trying to get comfy, huffs with the effort. John thinks he is ignoring his question but he finally speaks. “It probably wasn’t as bad as you’re imagining,” he says. “Most of the time I was just in the cell alone, you know?” 

“That’s bad enough.” 

“Maybe. But I knew you’d come get me so...it was just a waiting game.” 

“Until they broke your collarbone.” 

“And my face...I didn’t know it was Kolya until just before you came." 

“I know. He was broadcasting live when he made his presence known.” 

Rodney looks horrified. “You saw...my finger...?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Sorry.” 

John kisses Rodney softly. “Nothing to be sorry about. It’s all Kolya’s fault and he’s dead now.” 

“I should have known though. The camera, the requests for C4 and nukes and all that other BS. It was all very much his MO, even if he didn’t really want any of it.” 

“How could you know? You saw his body, same as me.” 

“Genius, remember? I ignore extraneous information and logic my way into an explanation. There were plenty of clues to tell me it was him; I just didn’t make the connection.” 

Rodney can connect dots like no one else, can find impossible answers from the scarcest information and nine times out of ten he’s right on the money, but even he couldn’t have ignored that Kolya wasn’t dead. They all saw him lying on the ground in a pool of blood. Witnessed Carson call it. Carried the body through the gate to the Genii. The man was stone cold dead, there’s no getting around it. John wonders exactly how he came back to life but it’s not important anymore, not now that his brains are decorating the floor of the bunker. 

Rodney tucks his head into John’s neck. “He told me...” he whispers hesitantly. 

John strokes his neck soothingly. “Yeah?” 

“He told me he was...going to send me back to you in pieces.” 

John knows this, witnessed it on the video, heard the impact of Rodney's finger as it failed to rematerialise against the shield, but Rodney is rattled and traumatised and he doesn’t need to know that right now. What he needs is for John to attest his experience. “Two pieces. I can live with that. Just this once.” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about how you would feel if I...I was...I can’t...” Rodney starts to sob and John pulls him closer, as tight as he can, mindful of Rodney's collarbone. 

“You’re home, you’re safe. He’s dead, Rodney, I killed him.” Rodney trembles with the force of his sobs, and John rocks him gently back and forth, whispering comforting words and pressing kisses to the top of his head. All he can do right now is be here. His own emotions simmer below the surface but he pushes them aside for now. Rodney needs him. Needs him strong and steadfast, and after everything they’ve been through this past week that’s all that matters. 

Rodney eventually falls asleep, exhausted from his ordeal and safe in John’s arms. John doesn’t sleep – can’t – just stays awake holding Rodney and sending thanks to Gods he doesn’t believe in that he got him home safe. He had to do some things to get Rodney back, things that ordinarily he wouldn’t be proud of, things he tells his men that they should never, ever do. But he’s not sorry for it, not even a little bit. It's not going to eat away at him, not when it was Rodney’s life in danger. He always knew he would do anything to keep Rodney safe from harm. If he had to do it all over again, he’d have kept Kolya alive a little longer, made him regret hurting Rodney, broken him just like he broke Prenum. It would have been a challenge to find the breaking point of someone as hard-headed as Kolya (Prenum had given in so quickly in the end). He won’t tell Rodney this, not how he feels or what he did. Rodney’s smart, he’ll know it wasn’t business as usual when he was missing, but he doesn’t need to know how deep John’s resolve actually goes, what he’s capable of when pushed to his limits. All he needs to know is that John will always come for him, no matter what. 


End file.
